Viking Law
by Endova Elixabete
Summary: In Norway, at least once every five years a man must leave the country to go rape and pillage in another. It's been almost five years yet again, which means it's time to put that law into place. And though rape really isn't Norway's thing, he still finds a way to make sure he follows the law.


Some laws stick around longer than they should. The government doesn't change them, though they have all of the power that they need in order to do so.

Why these laws are kept around, no one knows. Perhaps the government is lazy. Perhaps the government has a funny bone and decided to keep it for laughs.

But no matter what the reason it's there, the point is that it exists. And this specific law may not be one that many people would like to know that it exists.

_In Norway, at least once every five years a man must leave the country to go rape and pillage in another._

And that is exactly what Norway planned on doing, though… Maybe not in such a brutal way as he did in the past. He _did_ feel terrible about some of the things he did as a Viking.

But as he pulled on his fur-trimmed boots and tucked his pants into them, he didn't want to think about those times. No, he wanted to think about the _present_ times. And at the present it had been exactly four years, eleven months, and twenty-nine days since the last time he'd done anything of the sort.

He stood, looking himself over in the mirror. Turning to the side slightly. Perfect. Just like the old days. His blue shirt was as messy and wrinkled as his old one, a perfect replica down to the miss-stitch around the white edgings that was done when he first sewed it and never bothered to fix. Though he _had_ noticed it when he was almost finished with the entire thing. No matter. When he sewed this more recent one, he purposefully put it in. The shirt was large to fit for a growing boy, and hung off his frame perfectly as the flaps to the keyhole neckline hung open. The broad skirt flowed down to reach his mid-thigh. Though it was slightly shorter than all of those years ago, Norway thought the change was for the better. The sleeves of the shirt reached his elbow, and beneath it he had put on a darker blue long-sleeved under shirt that reached well over his wrist, to the middle of his hands. The square-shaped collar of that shirt was higher than his tunic's, and the skirt was a bit longer too, though the shirt was more form-fitting. Undershirts were reserved only for the wealthy—for they were the ones who could afford that. And Norway was proud to show that off.

He wore different pants now. Instead of the baggy tan pants he used to wear, he wore a tight-fitting pair. As he got older, he found tighter pants to be more comfortable, but he made sure they were made of linen. Just like back in the day. Linen may not have been the most durable of all clothing fabrics, but it sure as hell was a lot more comfortable than wool. And back then Norway didn't give a care in the world for durability. Comfort and flexibility were more important. And the less durable fabric was easier to get than the more in-demand and cheaper wool. He had rope threaded through the belt loops, and it was tied tightly to keep them held up to avoid embarrassment and possibly a death blow as they fell to the floor as a distraction, while the loops that hung around the bottom of his feet kept them tucked tightly into his boots.

He pulled his dark brown leather belt around his waist, fastening it at his belly button to the very last hole. There were four holes along the belt, and Norway's waist had never grown out of the smallest one before there was a change in fashion for the Nordic county. He cursed his growth in his mind. He'd hoped and prayed to the gods above that he would grow tall, and that he would surpass the others. But the spurt never came. And though he accepted it, he didn't have to like it. The beautifully decorated buckle held it in place, as the end could hang free, weighed down by a bone design fastened to it.

Walking to the mirror, Norway glanced at his reflection for a moment. He then turned to his dresser and grabbed a small band. Sure, it was made of rubber. But finding ones made of leather nowadays was almost impossible, not to mention they were too difficult to even bother making his own. He placed a few of them on top of his dresser and reached to his hair. He frowned at the cross-shaped clip that he had to pull out, but he wouldn't need it today. No, he had other matters to attend to. He placed that down, then started to braid the strands of hair that the clip held back towards the back of his head. He tied the piece of hair back on his head, securing it in its place with the band. He raided another small section behind his right ear. He secured that one also, then left it to hang freely.

He fastened his cloak with his intricately carved bone pin around his neck, though he kept the opening towards his right side, perfect for keeping his dominant arm free. Though that didn't matter. He could use either arm. The pin was fastened in the hoop, threading through the center and held tightly in place by the cloth. It wouldn't come undone easily. The dark brown—almost black in color wool fell to just slightly under his knees. Reindeer fur trimmed the outer edges all over for extra warmth and for better protection from the snow and the rain. The hood of the cloak fell loosely at his back. It was a bit too large for his head, just as his old one was. He never usually wore the hood, but he liked to if things got a little too cold for him. The heavy wool fabric the cloth was made from was perfect for the cold winter months.

The elaborate patterns that adorned his whole outfit shone out, the color of white contrasting perfectly against the dark blues of his shirts. The braids of fabric adorned the edges of every part of his outfit, from the ends of his sleeves to the collar of his tunic. Both skirts of the shirts had the intricate braids around them, though the undershirt lacked the design around it's collar. The very bottom of his cloak had the complex design of the braid also.

He glanced down to his brown leather boots, then fastened them with the toggles to the outer sides of his feet to keep them securely in place. Back then, he'd changes shoes every few months, but since he hadn't worn them many times before they were fine. They weren't even broken in yet. That made them uncomfortable, but he'd deal with it. It was only for one day at least. He was even wearing a pair of plain woolen socks. Perfect for keeping his toes warm.

Glancing at his reflection one last time, he deemed himself fit nodded at his reflection. Everything about his clothing looked great. Just as it had all those years ago.

Norway moved to his bed and picked up the replicas of his sword and shield, holding them as if he were ready for battle. Yes, this was perfect. He slid the leather straps of the sheath of his sword through his belt, tying all of the knots before patting it. It was perfect.

His arm slid through the strap on the back of his shield, holding it tightly against his arm. He'd have to wrap the two things and keep them off his person for the journey, but that was fine. So long as he had them for when he needed them.

He walked out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping at the top of the staircase. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he descended the stairs and entered the kitchen. He wrapped his beloved sword and shield in a spare sheet he'd taken from his closet and made into a nice carrier bag for them, securing the bag closed by the leather strap he'd installed.

Yes. Things were perfect. He was ready.

The taxi ride to the airport was relatively calm. Upon seeing Norway, the driver rolled his eyes. Yes, it was strange to dress as a Viking this day in age, but Norway didn't care. He just wanted to get this done and over with.

His package sat to the other side of the small taxi as he sat to the left, looking out the window and enjoying himself. His fingers tapped on his legs to the beat of the song playing on the radio—a recent top hit in his country. Though it wasn't his typical interest in music styles, Norway couldn't help but like it. It was rather upbeat and lively, and for some reason Norway like it more because of that. Aside from the music, the car ride was quiet and calm, and the Norwegian was thankful for that.

He thanked the driver as they got to the airport, then paid the man. He stepped out of the car and picked up his things, looking up at the tall building in front of him.

As he got onto the plane, things became a bit livelier. A small boy who had spotted him stood in front of him as he made his way down the aisle. He blocked Norway's path to his seat. Normally, Norway was very fond of children—he adored them even. But he was holding the rest of the passengers from getting to their seats, and Norway did _not_ appreciate the child playing with the hem of his _highly_ expensive shirt like that. Perhaps if he was in a different attire, or if the others behind him weren't getting restless.

Norway sighed. Usually children weren't fond of him when they first met him. They didn't usually like the way he talked, or the way he carried himself. That is, not until he'd tell them stories or offered to spend more time with them. Maybe dressing up before leaving his house was a bad idea. He could have changed in the other airport if he really wanted to. But it was too late for that. Norway just wanted to get to his seat now.

After the child had been ushered away, Norway moved to his own seat and sat. He was fortunate enough to have an aisle seat—perfect for getting out more quickly.

The stewardesses also seemed surprised at his attire. Not only they, but all of the people around him. He kept finding others staring at him, though they'd turn their heads as soon as he took a glance in their way. Sighing, he shook his head. It was only an hour journey. It wasn't too long to get worked up over.

When he'd reached the other airport, Norway quickly left the plane and made his way down to claim his… 'Luggage'.

It was relatively easy to find—no one else had any sort of case similar to his. He was thankful for that. He went through customs as was necessary, and waved down a taxi for himself.

The driver of the taxi tried to start a conversation, though Norway wasn't interested at all. He looked out of the window, looking at the buildings as they passed by. After hearing the driver's voice go up an octave, he glanced to the rear view mirror, only to see the driver looking back at him. Apparently he'd been asked a question.

"Repeat that?" He asked, his eyes travelling back to the window before his entire head joined them. He really didn't feel like talking, but it was better to have a conversation instead of just getting scoffed at or treated rudely later.

"I asked where you were going in that getup." The man said, his eyes fixing back on the roads. He nearly ran over a pedestrian, but swerved around him at the right moment, before continuing with his statement. "It's not normal to see someone dressed up like a Viking nowadays. You going to a meet-up or something?"

Norway shook his head. "No. Just to go conquer some land." Though the driver laughed at the statement, Norway was being completely serious. He had full intent to go and conquer some land. And not just any land—Danish land. He planned to take Copenhagen for himself, and he didn't care which way people took that statement in.

As they pulled up to the house, Norway paid the man and stepped out of the car, taking extra care in picking up his things. He walked to the front door of his chosen nation's home and unpacked his objects, tossing the bag he'd fashioned into the bushes. He'd need that for later. He tied his sword around his waist, making sure the sheath was in the right position before turning to the door.

Clearing his throat, he pulled on his shield and held his sword off to the side. He was ready.

He raised his foot in the air and took a deep breath before he brought all of his weight through his foot and onto the door near the handle, sending it flying open. He was sure he'd broken the latch in the process (along with noticing it's came off one of the hinges), but right now he didn't care. He was a Viking. And Vikings didn't care about breaking other people's things.

No, Vikings only ever cared for themselves and for their own men and families. No, people outside of their immediate relationships meant nothing to them. And for Norway, said to be the most vicious of all Vikings, that statement was a true statement back in the day—it was a way of life. It was word. It was law.

As the door flew open, it clashed against the wall behind it, a loud 'thud' echoing throughout the house. Denmark—the man Norway was here to see, was conveniently sitting in the front room watching television. And as the door was suddenly thrown open, he nearly jumped ten feet in the air, falling back on the couch with a shocked expression, his hand pressed over where his heart was as he breathed heavily, staring at the door.

"N-Norge? What the hell is wrong with you?!" He asked, sitting up straight. He stood, walking closer to the Norwegian. "What did you do that for?! Look what happened to my door! Norge! C'mon! That was solid mahogany!"

Norway wasn't listening to a word the Dane said as he tossed his sword to the ground. He moved closer to Denmark and used his shield to push him back on to the couch.

"Whoa!" Denmark flopped back onto the couch, confused as ever. Norway was acting strangely today. He never came over to the other's house—not like this at least. And what was with his outfit? He looked just like he did back then… Questions ran through the Dane's mind as he watched the Norwegian toss his shield to the side before climbing onto him, pressing him back onto the couch roughly.

"Norge, what's gotten into you today? You're acting weird."

"Shut up."

Norway leaned forward as he straddled the Dane, roughly pressing his lips to the others as he closed his eyes. All that was heard from the Dane was a muffled 'what?" before he gave in, smiling into the kiss.

Though this was strange, the two Scandinavians were dating. It was only normal for them to kiss and embrace each other. And Norway seemed to be enjoying himself. Maybe he just really missed Denmark? It'd been a long while since they last met up and kissed like this.

Wrong.

That was not what Norway had in mind. And as he bit down on the Dane's lip, Denmark knew something was up. Norway didn't normally act like that. Not at all.

The Norwegian then pressed their hips together, letting out a small moan into the kiss. No, Denmark knew exactly what this was. This wasn't just a normal meet-up. This was more. Norway was in the mood, and Denmark showed that he was willing to give into the Norwegian's desires by pressing his hips back onto the other's, grunting a bit. It'd been an even longer time since they were last intimate.

Norway pulled away from the kiss, glancing down at the Dane as he ran his hand over the other's chest. His hand stroked the other softly, travelling up to his neck and tickling his jaw before moving to his nose.

The Danish man's eyes slid closed at the sensitive touches. He was smiling wide as he hummed in approval, hoping his Norway would continue the motions. It was abnormal to see the Norwegian acting so gentle towards him. Usually he would be a bit rough, and-

His thoughts were cut off as said Norwegian went back to his usual self, pinching the Dane's nose roughly.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Denmark flailed a bit as his nose was pinched, now looking hurt as he glanced up to his lover, shoulders falling. "Norge! Don't do that! I'm trying to enjoy myself!"

Norway brought his hand away from the Dane's nose and moved both hands to his ears, tugging on those next. "Don't try to take control then. Take it like you have to."

"Take it like I have—Norge, what are you talking about?" Denmark was confused. What on earth was Norway planning? He really was acting strange today.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Norway asked. "Don't press back. Stay still." He ordered, pulling his hands away. He ran his hands down to Denmark's chest, drawing circles over the top of the fabric of his bright red button up shirt.

Denmark raised an eyebrow, but leaned back on the couch, pulling a spare pillow that had fallen to the floor behind his head. He nodded to the statement, then let his eyes drift closed again as he enjoyed the touches. Norway's hands felt great against his chest, and the hum he let out through his closed mouth.

Without warning, Norway took a hold on the shirt and ripped it out, the buttons flying away. They made small clink and clank noises as they fell onto the solid hard-wood flooring. They'd scattered in all directions on the floor, rolling off even farther than where they'd been at first.

Denmark went to sit up again, his eyes wide. "Norway, what the-"

He was silenced as the Norwegian placed a hand over his mouth, effectively doing its job at keeping him quiet. "I'll get the Swede to sew it." Was his simple answer before he pulled away slightly, tugging his pants down with his free hand.

After a bit of adjusting, Norway slid his pants and underwear off and tossed them to the side after kicking his boots off, forcing them all to land in a heap on the floor. He leaned back over the Dane and sat, pressing himself against the other's pants.

Denmark let another small groan escape his lips as the Norwegian felt him smile again, pressing back against his rear end. Norway knew as much—the Dane was getting a little impatient by now. His suspicions were only further proven as Denmark reached forward, grabbing onto Norway's hips to pull the other closer to him.

Norway inserted three fingers into his mouth. He pushed back against Denmark with a small moan as he coated each of his fingers carefully with saliva. His hand moved from the older male's mouth to land on his chest again, clenching into a fist. He glanced down to Denmark with half-lidded eyes, his fingers pulling out of his mouth. Denmark's eyes were also half-closed as he looked back up to Norway, a smirk ever-present on his lips.

Norway reached behind him, slipping finger into his rear-end, having to sit up a bit to be able to do it. He pressed a second one in soon after.

It was a strange feeling, and although he'd done this many times before, this was the first time in a long while. He wasn't exactly as used to it as he'd hoped. Norway made a face at the strange feeling. He was still trying to get used to it, though it gave him a bit of self-satisfaction to feel something like this again. It had indeed been a while, and he was craving it.

He leaned forward, connecting his lips with Denmark's. His tongue darted out and pressed into his boyfriend's mouth, searching and feeling for every crevasse of the other. He wanted to do more than just kiss him. He wanted to taste the Dane.

Denmark didn't give in easily. He fought back against the kiss, his tongue pressing against Norway's firmly in hopes of driving it from his mouth. He hoped Norway would just get tired and give in like he normally did, but strangely enough that didn't seem to happen.

Norway fought back fiercely with a passion Denmark was positive he'd never seen before. This new side of Norway was strange. Completely and utterly unusual. But the Dane loved it. It excited him, strangely enough. He reached down to the other's member, taking it into his hand as he stroked it.

Norway let out a moan and bucked his hips against the other's hand. He was breathing a bit heavily now as Denmark's fingers wrapped around him, stroking him.

He pressed his fingers in and out of himself in time with the Dane's stroking. This was a problem. If they didn't progress soon, Norway was sure he wouldn't last much longer. With his free hand, he grabbed onto the hand around his length and brought it up, pinning it above Denmark's head. The only protest he'd gotten as he added a third finger into himself was a whine.

He stretched himself to the best of his ability before pulling his fingers out. He pulled away from the Dane's lips, noticing how red the other's had turned from all of the kissing. He was sure his were just as bright—if not more so.

He reached for his belt, using both of his hands to pull it apart and off, then grabbed onto the Dane's hands, bounding his wrists together tightly.

"W-what? Norge, what is this?" Denmark asked, trying to get the knot undone. It was no use though. Norway had tightened it as best as he could, locking it in place by the buckle.

"Say 'no'." Norway opted to say instead of explaining things to the Dane. He reached behind himself to the front of Denmark's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly. He'd had enough practice to know how to blindly open up a pair of jeans.

"What?" He raised his eyebrow again, hands coming down as his elbows bent to hold them in front of his chest.

"Say it." Pulling the Dane's member from his underwear, he started to stroke him, fingers gripping onto him tightly.

Denmark let out a small moan as his cheeks dusted a dull shade of pink, bucking his hips upwards into the Norwegian's hand. "Norge, I don't know what you mean by-"

Norway raised a hand to the Danish man's hair, tugging on it a bit roughly. "Say it. Now." He ordered, his hand pausing in its movement.

Denmark whimpered a little, huffing. "Ow. C'mon, Norge… It takes forever to get my hair like this… And I don't know what you mean. Why should I say that? It's not like I don't want-"

Norway tugged on his hair a bit more violently, pulling his head closer. "Just say it. You're being annoying."

"Ow! Uh… No…?" He blinked a few times, wincing at his hair being pulled. Damn. Not that this was a bad thing, but Norway was being super demanding… More than he thought he would be.

Nodding, Norway took hold of the Dane's member again, pushing himself down and onto the other, letting out a slight gasp as he guided Denmark inside of himself. He bit his lip, wincing. It had indeed been a long time since the last time he'd done this, and his body was letting him know it. Not to mention that spit was a terrible substitution for lube.

And right about now, Norway was wishing he'd brought some whale oil to make things a bit more old fashioned. But no matter. Pain was something easily ignored—at least this type could be. Soon it would turn to pleasure, and that was all Norway would keep his mind focused on.

After a few moments of adjusting (along with a few small thrusts from Denmark wanting to move on), Norway raised himself, nearly pulling himself completely off of the Dane before he pressed back down firmly, Denmark's member pressing back into him. With a small groan, he pressed down fully.

He could feel Denmark pushing more against him, trying to move as much as he could inside of him. He heard the other let out a soft groan.

Norway pulled himself off of the Dane again, repeating the process again and again, soon building up a rhythm. The pain soon turned into pleasure, and as his movements met Denmark's, pushing himself more quickly against him, driving him to want more of the other.

Norway let out a moan as his head fell back, the pleasure beginning to turn to be too much for him. His toes curled as his hands clenched to fists against Denmark's chest. He bit his lip to suppress another moan, though that didn't stop the Danish man from letting out his own.

Their pace continued to pick up, Norway leaning down to kiss Denmark again, his hands gripping onto the other's shoulders firmly, using them to pull himself off of him as more leverage.

Denmark returned his kiss, tongue diving into Norway's mouth with a moan escaping from both of them. He wrestled his wrists free from the belt finally, the marks on his wrists from them brighter than the shirt he was wearing. He'd put all of his strength into pulling his hands apart, and now that they were free he could have his free range. He grabbed onto the Norwegian's hips and pulled him down, pushing himself deeper into Norway.

His nails started to dig into the Norwegian male's hips as he only gained more pleasure from the mutual thrusts between the both of them. All of the touches, the feelings, the sounds were almost too much to bear. And by almost, he was getting close to his release.

But no, he would not let himself go until he made sure Norway was through. Was that not the most gentlemanly way?

He reached down in between the both of them, grabbing onto Norway's member firmly. He stroked it in time with his thrusts, his thumb playing close attention to the sensitive slit at the tip for added bliss.

Norway's eyes closed more firmly, a loud moan coming from his lips as he continued to press himself down on Denmark hard, pulling away from the kiss to bite his lip, hiding every small noise that he could.

But that wouldn't be heard of from the Dane.

Denmark raised his hand from the other's waist, cupping Norway's cheek, though the hand on the Norwegian's member only continued to stroke him, pausing at the tip of Norway's member as his thrusts paused for barely a second. He looked up at the other, a genuine and soft smile on his face before he started again, pushing a bit more roughly than he liked into the other.

"Don't hold them back." He urged as Norway looked down at him, though his eyes were set in a glower, frustrated at the Dane for pausing, if only for a bit. "I want to hear. How else will I know what you like?" He continued, his thumb now stroking the soft cheek beneath his fingers.

Norway only started to glare down at him more, though he obliged and opened his mouth, letting out a small whimper. Denmark smirked as his hand moved back to Norway's waist to guide him, listening to a soft moan coming from the Norwegian that he loved so dearly.

After a few more thrusts, and more moans passing his lips, Norway couldn't bear to hold it any longer. He leaned down, his lips just barely brushing against Denmark's ear as he let out yet another moan, biting the Dane's ear lobe before whispering his name. "Mathias…"

He then released, one last moan eliciting from his thin lips. His eyes had screwed shut as his body tensed, tightening around the Dane.

Denmark smirked, a chuckle coming from his own lips. It was so sweet to hear those sounds coming from the other. How badly he always wanted to hear his name come from those panting lips. Sweat now started to drip from his forehead as he removed his hand from Norway's limp member to hold onto his hips again, pulling him closer and pressing deeper with each thrust. He could feel himself growing closer, almost overcome with pleasure with each passing thrust.

Finally, he could hold it no longer and came, releasing inside of the other with a grunt. His grip tightened on the Norwegian's hips before he calmed slightly, falling back against the pillow behind him as pants came from his lips. He wiped the sweat from his brow, smiling at the sounds of the pants coming from the man laying on top of him.

He allowed his head to fall back, his eyes closing as he hummed, rubbing circles on the back of Norway's body, opposite arm falling loosely at the other's bottom. "It's been a while, Norge." He said, nuzzling against the other's head.

"Ja." Norway's back rose and fell with each pant before he sat up, pulling the bottom of his tunic up to wipe the sweat from his own forehead. He pulled up and off of the other, ignoring the groan and the hands reaching up, trying to grab at him and pull him back.

"Norge!" The Dane whined, his hands still grabbing at the air. "Come back!" He said, a pout on his face. "We haven't cuddled in a long time! And you're supposed to cuddle after sex!" He said, sitting up and leaning on one of his elbows, the opposite hand now upturned and offered to the other.

Norway shook his head, not bothering to take hold on the hand being pressed his way. He turned and pulled up his pants, pulling his boots on and fastening them. He didn't bother to say another word as he picked up his shield, pulling it on and grabbing his sword.

He made his way to the kitchen, wincing and limping slightly from the events as a confused Denmark sat up and started to fasten his pants. Norway let out a small noise of disapproval. His lower area hurt, but he wouldn't show it when he was in the presence of the Dane. He rubbed his lower back with his free hand after changing his sword to the hand with the shield. Opening the refrigerator, he pulled out a six package of beer and kicked the door closed, heading back into the living room.

By now, Denmark had finished with his pants and was standing up. "Hey, Norge? What are you doing?" He asked, head tilting sideways slightly as one of his eyebrows raised, his hands now on his hips. "Doesn't your butt hurt? Maybe you should relax for a little…" He offered.

The Norwegian ignored him and continued to head for the door, unable to hide the small limp that came from the sting shooting through his lower torso.

"Norge, I said- Ah! Hey!" Denmark cut himself off at the sight of the Norwegian's foot being brought to contact with the table in the middle of the hallway, sending the table onto its side. The bowl filled with mints on top of it came crashing to the floor, the individually wrapped candies spilling everywhere.

Norway ignored them and threw the door open, stepping outside. He took a deep breath, then somehow managed to reach into the bush and pull out his fabricated bag for his sword and shield, placing the six-pack momentarily on the ground to slam the front door shut.

"What… Just happened?" Denmark asked to himself, blinking. He was confused—utterly. He shook his head before letting out a loud laugh, head tilting towards the ceiling. "That's my Norge." He said, letting out a long sigh.

/A/N/

Ah, hello! For my last story, someone requested a better sex scene. I didn't really intend for the last one to be actual /smut/, but people apparently want it? –shrugs-

So, here's my first attempt at a lemon! Sure, I've written smut and everything before, but usually only in RPs. And it's been a long while since I've really done one OTL But this is the first time I've written a whole sex scene by myself ;A;

So if it's a little weird, I'm sorry. I've also never done anything but the normal missionary position, so I wanted to broaden myself a bit…? I guess…? I dunno. It's practice though.

Also; I felt super awkward writing this OTL

I chose to actually have a little bit of a plot to my scene, not wanting it to go right into sex. I decided to throw in some Viking/Norwegian history in here~ The Viking fascinate me. They really do. So I hope you all like that part. I did a lot of research on the topic.

Also; yeah. It's a law in Norway. A real one. I've done a lot of research on that and I just… I can't. It's not my favorite of all the silly Scandinavian laws, but it makes me laugh.

My favorite has to be the one where if the water between Denmark and Sweden freezes and a Swede walks over it into Denmark, the Danes are allowed to beat him with a stick. I just… Denmark has the funniest of laws. Like the one where you have to check under your car for kids before you turn it on and ASFGHJKL

But I digress. Thank you all for reading this! And I can't wait to see you until next time~

Characters are not mine, only the story's plot is~


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